Birthday Present
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My Birthday Present free porn video
I was lying in bed when Susan said "Here's your birthday present my
little honey bunny."
That was how it began. "Honey Bunny"! Susan was using the affectionate
name I had given her. It didn't seem quite right to me as it seemed
like a way of addressing a wife or girlfriend rather than a man like me.
I didn't say anything though as it seemed too trivial to mention on its
own.
I opened my present and saw a pair of black silk panties and a matching
bra.
"Ha ha very funny," I said.
This was the point when I should have said something like "What's with
the Honey Bunny and lingerie?" But I didn't. Why you ask? Because I
sensed that I had upset her from the look in her eyes and sure enough
moments later Susan said "Don't be so rude. I take the trouble to buy
you an expensive present and this is how you thank me, Mark?"
You see Susan had been prescribed antidepressants and I was now letting
her have her way on most things as I wanted to help speed up her
recovery.
I didn't want to upset her.
Also, so she didn't feel on her own with her pills, I had resolved to
take them too even though I didn't need them. It had increased my
suggestibility or in other words made me more likely to comply with
Susan's requests than I realized at the time. But I hear you asking
wouldn't Susan also have been more prone to comply with my requests too?
Ah that was the beauty of her plan, you see, I did not realize that
Susan had been back to the Doctor's and been told she didn't need
medication after all. Susan saw this as an opportunity to take
advantage of me and get me into lingerie.
So when she said "Go on. Put them on!" it was partly the effect of the
antidepressants and partly a fascination with what Susan was doing which
led me to comply with her request. It is true that on the one hand I
was thinking "You can't be serious! You can't seriously expect me to
wear a bra and panties?" but at the same time I was also thinking "You
have already upset her. Are you really going to say that? What's the
big deal? It doesn't cost much to make her happy does it? Besides you
might enjoy this. It's a bit of an adventure isn't it? You always were
a bit of a rebel. Why not rebel against gender roles too?"
I slid on the tight fitting panties.
I noticed they really weren't meant for a real man like me.
At the same time as I thought how strange it was that I was feeling
aroused and turned on by what I was now wearing. I looked at my
panties. "Yes I said to myself. My panties were unmistakably feminine.
I am a man aren't I? Only women wore panties and by virtue of the fact
that I am wearing panties and they had been bought for me these women's
panties are mine. These are my panties. I was a man. Men don't wear
panties. I am wearing panties."
Susan noticed how turned on I was too.
"Don't worry I can help you with that," she said. "Imagine I am fucking
you, up your arse,"
The thought of being taken from behind meant I still had a hard on.
Susan was watching my hard on close up.
"Oh, OK I'll bear that in mind," Susan said stroking me.
"OK imagine you are watching someone else fucking me and then you have
to lick me out........."
Susan was still looking at my panties to gage my reaction. I was still
hard. Susan stopped stroking me.
"Interesting. Ok imagine you are fucking me up my arse." Susan waited
for a minute. "There you go!" she said quickly pulling my panties down
and pulling my dick down between my legs sticking some kind of device
there to hold me in place before quickly pulling my panties back up.
Then Susan showed me how to put on my bra.
I stood there in my bra and panties confused as to what to do next -
looking at the man I once was wearing unmistakably feminine underwear.
"I think I shall call this outfit your birthday suit," Susan said. "You
must wear it every birthday."
"Ok Susan I will wear my bra and panties every birthday." I intoned.
Why did I just agree to that?
Susan saw I was shivering and said, "Look I can't have you going out
without a decent pair of pantyhose to keep you warm."
Susan then told me about the importance of looking after my fingernails
so as not to ladder or snag my pantyhose as everyone would realise I was
wearing them if I did! Susan then showed me the best way to put on my
pantyhose.
Next she wanted me to wear a black silky half slip. I put it on. This
was the first time I had ever worn anything like a skirt. Now I found
myself asking myself am I a woman in a man's body or a man in a woman's
body? A man wearing a half slip? Ridiculous! I can't think of the
shadow of my body as a man. It looks like the sign on a ladies toilet
not the sign on a man's toilet. Only women look like this.
Susan told me to take it off again as it would not look right under my
work clothes and she passed me a black silk nightie and said it was the
only thing suitable that she had for me that went with the clothes I was
now wearing. I slipped it over my head and then slid my arms through
the straps and was amazed at how I felt as it slipped down my body
without any need for me to do anything further unlike, say, a man's
jumper. It felt amazing. It was effortless, silky, sexy, exciting.
I will draw a curtain over the rest of the evening save as to say what
happens in the bedroom between two people who are very much in love
needn't be put into the public domain and I was exhausted.
Just before I left for work the following morning Susan said "You will
find you want to instinctively cover your pride or rather that part of
your body where you would normally be displaying your masculinity. You
will find yourself doing it as if you were a girl wearing a miniskirt
trying to ensure the man sitting opposite you did not see your panties.
You will do this to hide that you have been "tucked" my little sweet
tranny but that's going to be good training for you for when-"
"What do you mean by tranny?"
"You are funny my little sweet tranny."
I asked myself, "What did she mean by tranny? Transistor?
Transylvanian? Transporter?"
I smiled.
"Pretend you know what she means," I told myself.
Susan was right of course. I was constantly conscious of my hidden
genitalia and trying to cover that area with something throughout the
day. But I did not realize that she was already calling me her little
sweet transvestite even before she had completed turning me into one.
I relied on public transport to get to work and there was a footbridge
to get to the train that gave you a great view up many ladies skirts. I
would always enjoy furtively watching young ladies pass by. But whilst
my eyes were still doing this today I was also constantly worried that
someone would see that I was wearing pantyhose as my trousers moved up
my leg as I went up and down the stairs. I was terrified that I would
be discovered.
I, the watcher, was becoming the watched. I knew enough about film
studies to know that the watcher is a male role and the watched is a
female role. The weird thing about this was that I was becoming the
only person being watched.
When I got home I told Susan that she was right about how I was covering
myself up and whilst I did not admit to looking up ladies skirts I did
admit to a nervousness about being discovered.
Susan was delighted and said I was starting to learn what it feels like
for a girl. She then put on the Pussycat Dolls song "What do you think
about that."
Something about her music choice helped me to understand that wearing
panties, pantyhose and a bra was just the beginning of Susan's plan for
some changes in our life together.
I was not surprised when Susan told me she planned to go out with some
of her friends this evening and that she had put some clothes on the bed
that she would like me to wear this evening. I knew this meant I was
going to be adding to my feminine attire.
Susan said I was always going out and it was her turn to go out tonight.
This was exactly what the song said. I went up to the bedroom and saw a
man's suit on the bed and a black silky dress.
Now I could have put on the suit but I knew I was not meant to nor was I
going to. I pulled the dress over my head and put my arms through the
shoulders like when I had put on my nightie the previous evening.
Why did I know I was meant to wear the dress? Well for one it matched
my underwear. Secondly it was on my side of the bed and thirdly there
was the song that Susan had just been playing.
As I was putting on my dress I heard Susan play "I don't need a man."
And I knew that I was going to be doing even more than wearing a woman's
clothing tonight.
Susan was standing in the doorway watching me as I straightened up my
dress. She was wearing one of my suits and holding a white apron in her
hand and a package.
"I am pleased you chose to put on your dress and not that horrible suit
which I would like you to incinerate later this evening."
I did not feel I had a choice.
I was about to find out that the package contained false breasts.
Susan pulled the dress down so my hands were pinned to my side. She
applied a glue to the breasts and filled my bra cups with them. Susan
said, "A lady steps into and out of her dress rather than pulling it
over her shoulders like a jumper or nightie!"
Then to emphasize that she considered me a lady now she pulled my dress
back up onto my shoulders.
"There, that looks better now doesn't it my little honey bunny?"
Without saying anything further she stepped round behind me, zipped up
my dress and tied the apron round my waist.
She then led me by the hand to her dressing table and sat me down.
I knew what this meant.
I was resigned to the fact that I was about to complete my
transformation from looking like a man in a dress to looking like a real
woman and I was not going to have any say in it as Susan applied
foundation to my face.
Then she drew the outline of my lips with a pencil before applying a
crimson lipstick with a brush.
Then false nails were stuck on my fingers which matched my lipstick.
Next Susan was applied eyeshadow and false eyelashes as I saw the last
masculine aspect of my appearance disappear and I had this feeling that
I was not the first man Susan had put make-up on. She was too much of
an expert.
A mascara brush was then pulled out as she blended my eyelashes and
false eyelashes and applied a small amount of eyeliner.
Then she put a sort of cap on my head which looked like tan pantyhose.
This looked strange and I was about to ask what this was when Susan put
a blonde wig on my head which she then brushed out before putting a
white maid's cap on top.
As I looked at myself in the mirror Susan said "I don't need a man but I
could do with a maid. You are always going out leaving me to clean up.
Tonight is your turn. I like these trousers of yours but I am going to
have to get you to move the zip tomorrow. Get to work, Marie!"
With that she went out leaving me for the evening and the words "My
name's Mark!" left unsaid.
I looked at myself in the mirror. What was left of me that said, "My
name's Mark?" I looked far more like a "Marie" than a "Mark". There
was no sense pretending I was anyone else."
I set about washing up and cleaning the house. What else could a maid
do faced with this sort of mess?
I had just finished when the telephone rang.
It was Susan.
"Marie. I have just met this young man in the club who is hitting on
me. He is a sexist pig and I am going to teach him a lesson. He is
clearly a virgin and I am bringing him home with me. Now I am calling
to ask you who is going to take his virginity, Marie? You or me?"
I hesitated. I was not gay. I was not going to watch my wife sleep
with another man either. The deal was either her or me.
As I realized this was my choice I decided that I might as well start to
fully experience being a woman now. No-one seeing me would believe I
was a man anymore anyway.
"I will sleep with him Susan."
"Pardon?"
"Please let me sleep with him Susan."
"Very well. Wait for me in our bedroom."
So around half an hour later I heard Susan fumbling with the front door
keys and then call out, "Sammy, shush, I just want to tell my housemate
Marie we are home. Shush. Don't turn the light on. Remember she's a
virgin and wants to save herself until she gets married so I want you to
take her from behind. She likes it like that and feels that she is
still keeping herself for the man of her life."
I learnt she had led Sammy into our spare bedroom. Susan wanted me to
take off my dress and put on a neglig?e and go to introduce myself to
him.
I did as I was told.
Sammy was not gentle with me. It was my first time and basically he
ripped my panties off. By the time he had finished pumping me we were
both exhausted.
"You liked it my little slut didn't you?"
I would be lying however if I said that I did not enjoy it. I had had
my cherry well and truly popped.
I told him I had never been fucked like that by a real man before and
that I was happy to call myself his little slut.
Susan woke me where Sammy and I both lay on the guest bed. My first
boyfriend lay there naked with an arm around me fast asleep.
"I need you to help me dispose of his clothes," Susan whispered.
"But I am his slut. I am not going to let you humiliate my man."
"No you are my slut Marie and there are plenty of other men out there
waiting to fuck you. Sammy took advantage of you and now he should
learn the error of his ways."
After putting me straight Susan eventually persuaded me to change my
mind and I put his clothes and the suit I used to wear when I was
pretending to be a man in our garden incinerator.
"Help me get a bra and panties on him Marie," Susan pleaded.
I would not normally have participated in feminizing another man but I
no longer thought of myself as a man and if ever a man deserved to be
transformed Susan told me Sammy was that man and I should really think
of her as a woman I was about to set free.
By the time we had finished with her, Samantha was wearing black lace
panties, a black lace bra, a red corset with black lace trimming around
it. She was also wearing fishnet stockings which were attached to the
corset and over this she was also wearing a maid's outfit like mine but
with white satin opera gloves.
Samantha was also wearing make-up which Susan had taught me to apply to
Samantha's face and a wig and cap like mine.
When Samantha woke in the morning it took her a few minutes to realize
what we had done to her.
She initially shouted at us "What the fuck have you bitches done?" and
told us to give her her "fucking clothes back" as she wanted to go home.
We decided to use similarly blunt language and explained to her that
those were her "fucking clothes" (or in other words the clothes that she
was going to next get fucked in) that she was wearing. Samantha no
longer wanted to go home as she did not want anyone to see her like
this.
I knew what this felt like as I did not want to go out either.
Part of me felt ashamed of what I had become and feared being attacked,
but as the older sister, I felt that I would have to help Samantha get
used to her new life and I would soon have to go out.
During the course of the day Samantha and I talked about how Susan had
turned us both into transvestites.
"Women are the superior sex and it is really exciting to be allowed to
dress like a woman," I said.
Samantha said I had lost my mind and she wanted to get back into her
men's clothes as soon as possible.
Ironically as she was saying this Susan was over at Samantha's
apartment. She was rearranging Samantha's wardrobe. She had borrowed
Samantha's bank card and gone on a shopping spree. Susan also planned
to redecorate Samantha's bedroom and make it more like a woman's bedroom
but that would not happen today but that didn't matter because it would
be a while before Samantha went home.
"Samantha, how could you say that?" I asked. "You should live more in
the moment. Enjoy the feeling of your bra, corset, panties and fishnet
stockings. Few men get to be so privileged and you should not let these
exciting feelings and sensations pass you by."
Samantha rubbed her fishnet encased legs and then cupped her bra in her
hands.
"I guess I could get used to it," Samantha said dreamily. "I'm going to
be dressed like this for a while aren't I?"
"That's my girl!" I said.
Haven
- 17.08.2020
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